war was just a game we played when we were kids
by velvet magnolias
Summary: I must be cruel only to be kind / Rated T for language.


**Written for the Shakespeare as Your Summary Challenge:** " _I must be cruel only to be kind."_

 **xXx**

"I hate you," he says to the room at large. The only response is from the old clock hanging on the wall, ticking away the time and George Weasley lets out a snort. "Seriously, Fred. I fucking hate you."

The silence hurts his ears and George lets the almost empty bottle of Firewhisky fall to the ground. He hopes it shatters, breaks off into a million little pieces on the ground but instead it lands with a thud, spilling the most of its contents onto his carpet. If George lit a match, the carpet would go up in flames and he wonders if that would hurt any less.

His mum used to say they were like a single soul split in two, George and Fred were, running around on four legs causing chaos wherever they went, an exasperated smile on her face as she looked from one identical mischievous grin to the next.

He wonders how it's possible to have been born together only to die apart.

"You were always so much better at this than me," he says quietly as he picks up the bottle of Firewhisky and finishes off the last few drops. "This being brave thing. I've always hated you for that."

 **XxX**

His mum visits often, daily, a warm, tentative smile on her tired face and George hates it, hates the way she hovers over him, treats him like a fragile thing that can break with the smallest touch.

She cleans their house- _his_ house, he reminds himself, because it's his house now, not Fred and Geoge's because there's no more _FredandGeorge_ just George-and George pretends not to notice the tears in her eyes as she grabs at the empty bottles of Firewhisky scattered throughout, the way her lips will bite back on a sob when she returns the next day only to find that the number of empty bottles seems to be growing.

It's not that George is an alcoholic because he's not. He just seems to drink a lot these days because he doesn't know what else to do. He started drinking because it seemed like the only thing that made sense at the time and he kept on drinking because it made him numb and it silenced the thoughts in his head that were threatening to drown him whole and his whole life was just fucking gray and really, George can stop whenever he wants to.

George tells himself this after his mother leaves with silent tears running down her face, after he reaches for his seventh bottle of Firewhisky. Fred is there, staring at him with a mocking smile and George sees red and the mirror breaks off into a million little pieces.

"Fuck you," he spits as he takes another swig. "Fuck you, Fred. _You_ left."

Fred's taunting smile grows.

 **XxX**

" _Have you ever thought about how what dying would be like?" Fred asks one night, as he lays opposite of him, hands held behind his head in silent prayer._

" _We've got a long way before that happens, mate," George says, frown on his face and Fred says nothing, just smiles._

" _I suppose. Humour me anyway."_

" _S'pose I have," says George after a moment, "it'd be silly not to, with this war going on. But me and you, Freddie, we're gonna die when we're both old and senile, surrounded by our wives and children."_

" _Seem sure of yourself, Georgie," Fred says with a quiet laugh. After a moment, "I'd always had quite the feeling that I'd die young. Go out with a bang, like Uncle Fabian and Gideon did. Die fighting for what is right, with pride, like a true Gryffindor."_

" _Bloody Gryffindor you are," George says with a snort, and Fred smiles into the darkness._

 _Fred smiles into the darkness, eyes unseeing and George tries not to think about it._

 **XxX**

Percy visits him once, a bottle of Firewhisky held in his hands and an apology pressed between his lips, and George pretends not to notice the way his hands shake as he steps away from the door wordlessly.

They sit in silence for a long time, George staring at wall and Percy staring at his hands.

"George," he says, starts, voice shaky and unsure and George says nothing as he downs his glass and reaches out for another one. "I-Mum-fuck _we_ miss you George. I know that, Fred, he- I know it doesn't fix anything, but I'm sorry. Fuck, George, I'm so fucking sorry. For everything."

In another life, another time, the sound of Percy cursing, Percy _apologising_ and admitting he was wrong, would have made him laugh.

Instead, George snorts derisively. "You're right. That doesn't fucking fix anything." A pause as he finally looks at Percy, tips his glass back in mock salute. "You know, sometimes I wish it had been you, instead of Fred."

Percy lets out a laugh and it's empty and hollow and it hurts, it fucking hurts but George doesn't allow himself to flinch as he trades his glass for the bottle. "Sometimes, I do too."

 **XxX**

"Fuck you, George."

George is dragged awake and he blinks and there she is, there is his little sister towering over him, her fiery hair as red as her anger. He staggers, pathetically tries to stand up but Ginny pushes him, pushes him back down and her anger _hurts_.

"We've all been trying to give you space, because fuck, George, we all knew how close you and Fred were, and I'm not trying to understand the bond you two had, but you're not the only one who's hurting. You're not the only one who fucking lost him, George. We all did."

He doesn't say anything, doesn't think he could even if he wanted to, just watches as Ginny spurs on, a fiery ball of rage ready to throw the next hex.

"Do you know how many times I've had to comfort mum after she came see you, how many times I've caught her crying when she thinks we're not looking? And Percy. Percy, who's trying to make amends, repair what he broke, and he's not perfect, I know he's not but he's fucking trying George, which is more than I can say about you," she spits out accusingly and all George can do is blink.

"Bill and Fleur are expecting, did you know that? They say it's a girl, due in May. But, of course, you didn't. Because you'd rather waste away your life, drown yourself in the bottom of a fucking bottle. You, drinking away your life away pathetically, pretending you're the only one who's hurting, shutting us out, shutting your own _family_ out."

And just like that her anger leaves her, evaporates as she gives him a look that feels close to pity.

"We're your family, George, we all fucking miss you but there's only so much shutting out you can do before we stop trying." She pauses, shakes her head as she turns away from him. "We're all hurting, George, because we didn't only lose Fred that day, we lost you, too."

She Disapparates with a loud crack and the bottle he had been holding up until that point shatters in his hand; George pretends not to notice the stinging in his hand as the alcohol mixes with his open wound.

He stares at the spot she disappeared from, her words ringing in his ears.

 _We lost you, too._

 **XxX**

" _What would happen to us, if me and Fred ever separated?" George asks their mother once._

" _Now, why in the world would that ever happen?" his mum laughs and George shrugs his little shoulders._

" _I dunno. Just wondering."_

 _Fred smiles as he throws his chubby arms over his brother's shoulders. "That would never happen, George, right mummy? Me and you, we're always gonna be together. No matter what."_

" _Always?" George asks and Fred grins with the wisdom only a four year old can posses._

" _Always, George."_

 **XxX**

"You lied," George accuses as he stares at the seat opposite his. Fred is there, staring at George with a thoughtful look expect he's _not_ because he's supposed to be dead and nothing makes sense anymore. "You said we'd always be together, Fred, but you lied. You broke your promise."

His mum hasn't been to his flat in a while and he supposes that's Ginny's doing. His flat is a mess, it's a mess and it's falling apart and George can't help but think how fitting it is that his life is, too.

"Did I?" Fred asks and George sighs.

 **XxX**

" _George, promise me something."_

 _The serious tone in Fred's voice makes George looks away from window he's been staring at all evening to look at his brother; he's waiting for something, he just doesn't know what yet._

" _If I die," Fred starts, and George opens his mouth to interrupt but Fred continues, leveling him with a look. "If I die, promise me you'll live a life that is full enough for both of us."_

 **XxX**

"We both broke a promise, didn't we?" George asks, and Fred smiles, a little sad.

"S'pose we did."

 **XxX**

" _Fred," George starts, but Fred shakes his head._

" _No, George, just. Please. I've got this feeling and I just need you to promise me this."_

 _There's a coin, in his pocket, and it's burning, the coin is and Fred is looking at him almost pleadingly, urgently, and George doesn't understand what any of it means._

" _I will if you do," George says as Ginny walks in, a familiar coin grasped in her hand and Fred gives him a curt nod. "Alright, I promise."_

 **XxX**

"I'm not really sure how I'm supposed to go from here," George admits and Fred smiles, shrugs as he looks around their tiny flat pointedly.

"You could try cleaning up this mess," Fred says, grins, and then in a voice that's meant to be a whisper, "Lazy bastard, always did need me to clean up after him."

George laughs as he lets his head fall back and it's the lightest he's felt in _months._

 **XxX**

 _" _It's time."__

 _ _"Alright, let's do this."__

 **XxX**

Victoire Weasley is born on May 2, two years after the Battle of Hogwarts, two years after Fred's death.

George shows up, cleanly shaven and sober and an apology pressed between his lips. There's laughter and joy and then there's silence, and everything stops. His mum sobs, and everyone stares, they all stare at George and he squares his shoulders, ready for anything and everything he deserves.

Bill is the first to move, eyes narrowed as he stares down at George, before he grabs him gruffly and pulls him into a tight hug.

"It's good to see you, brother," Bill says and George freezes, then melts, allows himself to return the embrace.

There's a flurry of activity after that, the noise starts up again tenfold, hugs coming from every direction, his mum refusing the keep her eyes off him as she grabs his face in between her frail hands and it's all George can do not to cry as she pulls him in for another hug.

Ginny is there, standing defiantly next to Harry, staring, trying to look angry and indifferent and George pulls her to his chest and she goes easily, clinging onto him like it's the only thing she knows. "Thank you," he whispers into her hair, and he knows she's heard, by the way she holds on tighter.

"Meet your little niece," Fleur says, as she smiles tiredly at him, cooing down at the tiny bundle of pink in her arms. "Victoire, say 'ello to your Uncle George."

She's placed in his arms, little Victoire is and she blinks up at him in wonder, little hand wrapping easily around his finger, and he can feel his heart swelling.

There is Fred, standing in a corner of the room, smiling at him as he looks on at George and the rest of the family and then he's not, he's gone, but that's okay because he's not, he's not really gone and George understands that now.

 **XxX**

" _Be careful out there, yeah, Freddie?" George asks as the fight breaks out around them and Fred smiles as he grasps his hand, holds it tight like they did when they were younger.  
_

" _You, too, Georgie."_

 **XxX**

 _A/N: It's almost midnight where I'm at and I had the sudden urge to write this and I honestly don't even know. It kind of just took a mid of its own. This was angstier(?) than I intended. Hoped you guys liked it all the same. Cheers!  
_

 _-Evie_


End file.
